The flame surged wildly in Slovetski's eyes--not at me. But he got it under control. He said, "Take him away." He did not do me the courtesy of looking my way again. Rena took me by the hand and led me off, closing the door behind us. As soon as we were outside, I heard a sharp babble of argument, but I could make out no words through the door. I didn't need to; I knew exactly what they were saying. This was the proposition: _Resolved, that the easiest thing to do is put Wills out of the way permanently_. And with Slovetski's fiery eyes urging the positive, what eager debater would say him nay? * * * * * Rena said: "I can't tell you, Tom. _Please_ don't ask me!" I said, "This is no kid's game, Rena! They're talking about bombing the Home Office!" She shook her head. "Tom, Tom. You must have misunderstood." "I heard them!" "Tom, _please_ don't ask me any more questions." I slammed my hand down on the table and swore. It didn't do any good. She didn't even look up from the remains of her dinner. It had been like that all afternoon. The Great Ones brooded in secret. Rena and I waited in her room, until the museum's public visiting hours were over and we could go up into the freer atmosphere of the reception lounge. And then we waited there. I said mulishly: "Ever since I met you, Rena, I've been doing nothing but wait. I'm not built that way!" No answer. I said, with all of my patience: "Rena, I heard them talking about bombing the Home Office. Do you think I am going to forget that?" Leadenly: "No, Tom." "So what does it matter if you tell me more? If I cannot be trusted, I already know too much. If I can be trusted, what does it matter if I know the rest?" Again tears. "_Please_ don't ask me!" I yelled: "At least you can tell me what we're waiting for!" She dabbed at her eyes. "Please, Tom, I don't know much more than you do. Slovetski, he is like this sometimes. He gets, I suppose you would say, thoughtful. He concentrates so very much on one thing, you see, that he forgets everything around him. It is possible that he has forgotten that we are waiting. I don't know." I snarled, "I'm tired of this. Go in and remind him!" "No, Tom!" There was fright in her voice; and I found that she had told me one of the things I wanted to know. If it was not wise to remind Slovetski that I was waiting his pleasure, the probability was that it would not be pleasant for me when he remembered. I said, "But you must know something, Rena. Don't you see that it could do no harm to tell me?" She said miserably, "Tom, I know very little. I did not--did not know as much as you found out." I stared at her. She nodded. "I had perhaps a suspicion, it is true. Yes, I suspected. But I did not _really_ think, Tom, that there was a question of bombing. It is not how we were taught. It is not what Slovetski promised, when we began." "You mean you didn't know Slovetski was planning violence?"